Closer
by a-rock-n-roll-suicide
Summary: When Tank Girl is captured by Kesslee's men, she's unprepared to deal with her newfound attraction and the guilt that comes with it. And Kesslee's just plain unprepared to deal with being attracted to someone much younger than him and not his type, and the jealous , possessive feelings that come with it.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's ****Note: So there needs to be more than one Tank Girl/Kesslee fanfic, so I helped with that a bit. I have no idea how long this will be, but it might be at least ten chapters. And there may be angst. Also lots of hatesex. Lots of delicious hatesex. Thank you to my beta, demonbarber14, who also happens to be the one to have written the only other Tank Girl smut fic, _Skullcrusher Mountain_. As always, I own nothing.**

**March 7, 2033**

Kesslee had no idea what to expect when his guards brought in Rebecca Buck, a young, audacious, brazen twenty-one year old girl who had killed several of his men when they captured her, not to mention several on her way to HQ. He expected someone unappealing, possibly a very ugly assassin hired by the Rippers to eventually take him and Water and Power down. He also intended to have her executed immediately. Even if she weren't an assassin or in league with the Rippers, he could not tolerate the murders of his men, or her taking hiswater. No, her behaviour could not go unpunished. How would it look to his employees if he ruthlessly eradicated workers who let him down but let a potential threat to hisobjective go off with a slap on the wrist?

But his plans went out the window when they brought in an attractive young woman with very short hair and an outfit that was not exactly modest. Half of her red bra was showing, and Kesslee had to thank the gods that his suit wasn't too tight.

The minute they brought her in, she'd revealed herself to be a spirited little filly with a smart-ass attitude. Not only would he not kill her, but he would make her work for W&P. The corporation could use someone as powerful as her, and it would be interesting to see her drop her proud, smart alecky façade and become compliant to him...and only him. He wouldn't give a damn how insolent she was to his other subordinates when she was working for him; in fact, he'd promote her rather quickly. The only person she'd have to answer to would be him. But for now he needed her to be obedient to everyone.

And what's more, he wanted her. Not just for employment purposes, he _wanted _her like mad. He was taken aback. He was nearly fifty-two, and she was twenty-one. He had had partners and lovers ten, even twenty years his junior, but thirty years was pushing it, especially with someone who was not his type at all. There was also the fact that she refused his offer of employment and practically declared him a nemesis. Secretly he could not blame her, if he looked at her situation from her point of view. He knew he just had to ignore his feelings.

When she refused him, he was a bit disappointed, but not discouraged. He knew she would give in eventually. It was only a matter of time. He sent her to do manual labour. Maybe that would break her. Probably not, but it was worth a try.

"Sir," Sergeant Small started, "that girl killed almost ten men."

"Yes, I am well aware, Sergeant," Kesslee answered, annoyed.

"Sir, you can't let her get away with her crimes," Small continued, as if he were an authority figure over Kesslee.

"I'm _not_." Kesslee gave the sergeant a warning glare and wondered if he made a mistake in appointing Small as Derouche's replacement.

"You offered her a position at Water and Power," Small pointed out.

"Good to know your listening skills are up to par," Kesslee responded. "I did not promote you to question me. I have my reasons for doing what I do. It so happens that she would make a good addition to our team. It may take a little time to convince her, but she'll come around."

Sergeant Small sighed. "Yes, sir."

Kesslee scowled and left to his chambers to _take care _of his current predicament.

Kesslee's chambers were, naturally, the biggest. It had several rooms, for guests who occasionally stayed with him. No one was there currently**, **which was a relief, because he was not keen on having someone overhear him pleasuring himself.

He told a guard to not let anyone interrupt him, that he was doing something very important, and if the guard went in or let anyone in, it would mean immediate execution. He locked his bedroom door as a precaution.

Kesslee sat on his bed and unzipped his pants, pulling them to his ankles. He lubed himself and slowly started stroking himself, moans falling from his lips, his eyes closed in pleasure. Fantasies danced in his head, of Rebecca submitting to him. He pictured her naked on the ground as he stood in front of her. She was on her knees and he imagined himself telling her to suck him off.

"_You're mine now, love. Suck me," he commanded. _

"_Of course, sir," she'd say, completely compliant, his good little girl. "You're so fucking big, though," she adds, in awe. He'd only smirk and pull her head toward his cock._

He thrust into his fist, groaning.

_Her tongue swirls around his head, making him groan and grab a fistful of her hair. _

"Fuck," he moaned, stroking a little bit faster.

_Her tongue is now licking up and down his shaft, and it feels heavenly, though he's starting to get impatient. "Take it in your mouth, darling," he hisses, and she obeys. Good girl._

He bit down on his lip, thrusting into his fist.

_Rebecca's mouth filled with his cock, pleasuring him, the picture of submission, was enough to almost make him come, but he made her slow down a bit._

His strokes grew harder and harder as his breath grew heavier. He was so caught up in his pleasure that he almost didn't realize whose name he was crying out.

"_Fuck, Rebecca," he pants. He thrusts into her mouth. _

_She licks him as she sucks him, and the pleasure is almost overwhelming. No way will he be able to last any longer. His fingers tighten their hold in her hair._

"_Fuck, Rebecca, I'm…"_

He cried out as he writhed, spilling his seed over his lower belly and hand. For a moment, he lay on his bed, basking in his bliss. Then he remembered himself and cleaned himself off and got dressed again, making sure to make himself look presentable and not like he just masturbated.

He walked out of his room to his office. He pushed the intercom button on his desk.

"Yes, sir?" one of his goons answered.

"Come in here. I've a special assignment for you and your squad," he commanded.

"Right away, sir."

A squad of eight men walked in, looking at him expectantly. Kesslee opened a drawer and pulled out several wires. They were very small video cameras. He held them up for the soldiers to see.

"Gentlemen, what I have in my hand are video cameras, very miniscule ones. I have a feeling that Rebecca Buck, the new blonde girl who killed several of my men, will be a bit of a problematic worker. Obviously you and other soldiers can and will keep a very close eye on her, but I realise none of you are perfect and there are things that may slip your eye, especially since she may be particularly cunning. So, here's an easy solution. Video cameras. I want them placed anywhere she may be seen at, plus everywhere else, as she may try to escape or get into things she has no business getting into. There will be monitors in my office here, and in my room, and wherever. She is not to know about this, understand?" he asked. The men nodded.

He handed them the video cameras. "Go, and return when you need more."

They did as they were bid.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled. He would have her in no time. Hopefully in more ways than one.


	2. Chapter 2

**As always, thank you to my beta, _demonbarber14._**

**March 7****th****-8****th****, 2033**

Rebecca "Tank Girl" Buck thought Kesslee was fucking sexy. If you asked her, she'd of course deny it. Who would admit to finding an evil bastard like him attractive in any way, shape, or form? But she did, and she was sort of ashamed of it. The feeling was foreign and made her severely uncomfortable. She never was ashamed of anything she did or felt before. She fucked, she cursed, she drank, she smoked, and she did violent things from time to time. But as much as others would classify those activities as self-destructive (except for the last one, which is really just plain destructive), she wasn't ashamed in the least bit of partaking in them. But being sexually attracted to her new captor? Fucking hell.

Rebecca struggled against the guards as they dragged her to a cell.

"No use trying to struggle," one of them said, a very smarmy one, who didn't even try to hide his wandering eyes. "It will only make things harder."

"Yeah?" she mocked. "Or will it make _you _harder?"

That remark earned her a sharp slap, but she only smirked. She always had to win. Always, especially now, when she was in the clutches of an evil corporation.

"Here, this is your cell," the other guard said, showing her the cell. It was very tiny. The bed looked hard and very uncomfortable and she knew that sleep would be a stranger to her this night, and possibly every night she spent there. "Don't get too comfortable. In ten minutes you'll be working. And don't get too attached, because you won't spend a lot of time in here."

Ten minutes later she found herself groaning under the weight of heavy buckets. It wasn't like she hadn't lifted anything heavy before. She had. She didn't consider herself weak, not at all. But this shit was _heavy. _Unbelievably heavy. She tried to take her mind off things.

If she had accepted Kesslee's proposal, she wouldn't have to do such dangerous and menial labour. Who knows what he would have made her do, but chances are, it would be preferable to this shit. But she could not give in to him. How insulting it would be to the memory of her friends if she joined the man who killed them. And how insulting to herself. Was she so lazy that she would ever consider betraying her friends and herself just to escape manual labour? The answer was a resounding hell no.

Why would he offer a chance to work with him? Shouldn't he have executed her? Not to say she wanted him to execute her, of course not, but it confused her. Other people would have been dead. What was so special about _her? _

Midway through, all the workers-aka _slaves_-were allowed to take a shower. They were required to leave their underwear on. She thought that was weird. _Guess none of the guards want to see us naked or something. _She had no idea why; she thought her body was banging.

She stripped down. They had given her new underwear for this occasion, plain white panties and a matching tank top, probably for modesty purposes. She was sweaty from the hard work, so they clung to her body. _I guess it don't matter if I wear underwear or not, _she mused. _The guard's will be gettin' an eyeful either way. _

She stood under a showerhead and yanked the chain, sending powder down. She made like she was scrubbing her body in a normal shower. It felt nice. She was nowhere near as relaxed as she wanted to be, but it was enough.

When she was done, she grabbed a vacuum and blew most of the powder off of her. She was certain she would find power in places she wouldn't expect there to be later.

She was escorted-read: dragged-to her cell and locked in there. And she was still only in her underwear. Thank god the ogling guard didn't decide to have some "fun" with her. She sat on her bed. She had been right; it wasn't comfy. And she wouldn't sleep; she tried, but it wouldn't come.

So she decided to have some fun herself. She lay back on her bed, and spread her legs. She pulled her panties down to her ankles. She pushed her tank top up, revealing her breasts. She played with her nipples a bit, making them hard and making her wet between her legs. It had been a while since she had known the touch of a man, or even herself. Especially herself, as when she had her boyfriend, Rob, she didn't even need to touch herself. She tried to recall his face, his sexy face, but she failed. All she could see was _his _face, his devastatingly handsome face, with his smug-ass smirk permanently on his face. The worst part was, it didn't even kill her arousal. In fact, the thought of Kesslee _fuelled _her wetness. It horrified her to no end.

She was ready for the guilt. How could she feel this way for her enemy, for this tyrannical murderous bastard who killed her friends? She was glad he wasn't here to bear witness to this, to the crimson colour of her face, or the fact that she was almost naked, her legs spread, her folds slick and wet. But she was bored. It wasn't like Kesslee provided her with a television or anything. Rebecca slipped her hand in between her legs and brushed her finger against her clit softly, eliciting a low moan. She moved her finger in a circular motion. She closed her eyes and let herself imagine him in between her legs, thrusting. The sensation of his chest against hers. His lips on her neck, sucking, biting. Raspy, lust-filled whispers in her ear. He would be very dominant in bed, in total control. That turned her on to no end. They would fight for dominance, as they both wanted the power. She imagined them tangled up n a large bed, moaning and panting and growling, pawing at each other. She inserted one finger, imagining it was his cock. She moaned louder, and inserted two more fingers. He would start out on top of her, thrusting inside of her. She'd soon flip them both over so she was on top, riding him, a smirk on her face. Pleasure filled her, and she could feel the start of something she so desperately needed at the moment. It slowly built until it exploded, until she came undone, crying out, and writhing.

She was so caught up in her pleasure and fantasy she didn't notice that she was screaming his name.

She removed her hand from her legs and pulled her top down and her panties up. She lay back, panting, smiling, still in bliss from her orgasm.

And then reality smacked her in the face. She just masturbated thinking about her nemesis. Was she mad? She touched herself fantasising about the man who murdered her loved ones. She may as well have slept with the enemy. She never in her life felt guilt for anything. The shame she felt merely for being _attracted _to Kesslee was nothing compared to the guilt she felt after she made herself come to _him. _And the idea that his name had fallen from her lips a few times during masturbation mortified her. Shame and guilt was the shittiest feelings in the world. How Kesslee could do the things he did and still sleep soundly at night was beyond her comprehension.

She felt tears fall down her face. Is this what her life was going to be like until she figured out a way to escape? Work hard for several long hours, masturbate, cry, and try and fail to fall asleep? _Welcome to hell, _she thought. She couldn't stop herself from sobbing, but she tried to keep herself quiet. It was bad enough the guards posted outside her door probably heard her passionate cries; they didn't need to hear her anguish. She hated this, feeling vulnerable. She was Tank motherfucking Girl. She needed to be strong, to be badass. Not to cry like a little baby. She let herself cry for five minutes, then had to restrain the rest of her emotion. From now on, she could not, would not, cry. Kesslee and his men weren't worth her tears, she decided. Even if they were mostly to mourn her deceased loved ones. If or when she escaped, she could cry all she wanted to, privately of course. But here was unacceptable.

She wiped any remainders of her tears and curled up in bed under the itchy ass blankets Kesslee so "generously" provided for her. Sleep came, but not easily enough, and left sooner than it should have.

She was woken up roughly by guards a mere two hours after she had finally found sleep.

This was how the next two days went by: working hard, nearly injuring herself, showering, and sleeping, or trying to. She didn't masturbate either. It didn't matter how horny she got. In public she was her usual smart ass self. Even when she wasalone, she made sure to try and maintain her usual personality. She would not let this place break her. _You would just _love _that, wouldn't you, Kesslee? _

Work was taking its toll on her. Her back ached, she was sore all over, and she was always _tired. _And no matter how fucking exhausted she was, sleep always managed to elude her for a while until two hours before it was time to wake again. She was afraid that one of these days, she'd fall asleep on the job and get beaten or even worse, that she'd manage to kill herself by falling off something or letting something heavy fall on her head. And she knew Kesslee's men would make no move to help her out. She still thanked whoever was out there that one of his men hadn't made advances towards her, though they looked at her like they wanted to, particularly when she was walking back to her cell, half naked.

Her first meeting with Kesslee when she was being taken in was not her last by any means. The day after she first arrived, he stopped by, wearing that stupid little smirk that made her heart skip a beat, just a little.

"Good afternoon," he said, shutting the door behind him. They were alone together, and that made her a bit uneasy. She wasn't sure if he had limits-he murdered her friends, after all. And she had already had her shower, so she was in her panties and tank top. Maybe it was such a good thing they made her give up her sexy underwear. But if he had looked her over, she hadn't seen.

"So, whaddaya want?" she asked, trying to look like she wasn't slightly nervous.

"Have you thought about my offer at all?" he asked. "Even a little bit?"

Rebecca shrugged. "Maybe I did, and maybe I didn't."

He rolled his eyes. "You know, there are people who would _kill _for the position I'd give you-even people already working for me."

"Maybe you should give it to them, then. They can actually stand your ugly mug," she replied.

"I don't _want _them, you silly little girl. I want _you_," Kesslee told her impatiently.

"Why?" she asked, partly out of genuine interest.

"You're ruthless, intelligent. Water and Power needs someone like you."

"Yeah, well, I don't need Water and Power."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really?I'm pretty sure you need water, which is what we provide. And think of the protection we could give you. No one would hurt you, lest they face my wrath," he said.

"No one can hurt me anyway," Rebecca answered.

"My men and I can. That's where the 'Power' comes in, remember?"

"I can defeat you," she said. "You and your men. It'll take some time, though."

"No, you can't," he disagreed. "And it's pointless to try. I don't see how you could possibly refuse this offer. Like I said before, once-in-a-lifetime chance."

Rebecca nodded. "And like _I _said before, not interested. "

Kesslee sighed. "Protection, free water, respect, power. I _know _those things sound even somewhat appealing to you. You will have higher rank than even Sgt Small."

Rebecca shrugged. "And?" she asked.

Kesslee frowned. "And it's perfect for you," he said.

"Nope," she told him.

"Nope what?"

"No, I will never work for you."

He opened her cell door again. "Fine," he said brusquely. "Have it your way. I hope you enjoy your menial work down here."

He exited and left her alone with her thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, sorry I've been gone for so long. Busy with school, end-of-course exams, and life. Thanks to my beta, demonbarber14.**

Kesslee turned on his video monitor and saw that it was time for the workers to be taking their showers. _Lucky me, _he thought, licking his lips. Rebecca was stripping down to her underwear, the new ones provided to her by his men. He almost wished they had let her keep her old underwear. Or that their stupid "keep underwear on while showering" rule was not in place. But it wasn't so bad. Her tank top and panties clung to her obviously sweaty body, and yes, it was enticing. Even more so when she yanked the chain, sending powder down to cover her, and she caressed herself all over, eyes closed, as if she were in a real shower.

It almost looked erotic. She looked at peace for once, showering.

And then when she was done, she used a vacuum to blow the powder off.

As she was led back to her cell, he noticed with extreme displeasure how the guards looked at her, the way their eyes roamed over her scantily clad body. They didn't make a move to molest her, but they looked like the idea had crossed their minds. He had no idea why he didn't approve of their wandering eyes. What does it matter if this oddball of a captive gets groped by his men?

_Because she's mine, _he thought.

Kesslee watched as Rebecca was roughly thrown into the cell, the door closed behind her. He switched to the camera in her cell. Rebecca sat on her bed, and from the look on her face, she was displeased with the shitty bed made for prisoners. _Of course you are, _he mused. _But you make things harder than they need to be, don't you? _

She sighed, and did something he didn't expect at all. She pulled her panties to her ankles, and pulled her top up. He could make out the black hair on her pubic region-so she wasn't a natural blonde. Her breasts were small, but not too small. He wasn't certain, but he figured they may be B-cups.

The sight of her almost naked aroused him, and he was confused. She was not his type at all. Most of his past lovers were blonde and curvy, with perfect, large round breasts, sultry voices, and pouting lips. They were also compliant and did as they were bid. Rebecca Buck, it was safe to say, did not meet this description at all. Her breasts were small, though not the smallest he had seen. She was fairly skinny. Her voice was irritating, and to say she was compliant was to say that the sky was green. Her lips weren't that bad, actually. They weren't too thin, though they still weren't the lips of a brooding temptress he usually went for. But for whatever reason, this girl stirred something in him.

Before he could wonder why she was doing this, she revealed her intentions to him-not on purpose, of course. She started playing with herself, flicking her nipples, before sliding a hand down between her spread legs. He watched intently how she inserted one finger, and rubbed her clit with her thumb. He let out a low groan when he heard her moan. How could something so beautiful come from someone who was his enemy? He'd never heard a sound so lovely to his ears. Of all the women he'd pleased over the years, they did not sound half as blissful as Rebecca.

_Who are you thinking of? _he wondered.

His question was answered when he heard a name fall from her lips-his name. She was thinking about _him. _Not whoever she was fucking before his men killed them, _him. _He felt a sense of smugness**. **Of course, it probably slipped out involuntarily, but it still made him feel superior anyway. _It's only a matter of time before she comes to my side, _he realized with a grin. But she still would be very hard to break. One session of masturbation would not convince her, obviously. He needed to persuade her.

During this time of reflection, Rebecca had come and was covering herself again. He cut off the video, and sighed. He was sexually frustrated again.

Kesslee pressed the intercom button.

"Yes, sir?" a goon answered.

"Send me up someone. A lady," he said.

"Yes, sir. Should I clean her up for you? Dress her up in something particular?" the goon asked.

"Clean her up, of course, but her current outfit is fine as is. Don't forget to send up her health records along with her."

"Of course, sir. Right away, sir. Any particular type? Redhead? Blonde? Brunette?"

Kesslee paused for a moment. "Blonde, please."

In less than half an hour, a young blonde woman was brought up to his room. She had brown eyes, and was curvy, his usual type. She was holding a stack of papers. Her blonde hair was damp from a recent bath. She looked at him, as if waiting for him to say something.

"Well, give me those records. I need to see if you have anything," he said.

"I don't, I swear, sir," the girl said, but handed the paperwork over.

"That may be so, but I need to check just in case," he answered. He looked them over. No reported STDs, no pregnancies. It seemed that the guards hadn't slept with her yet.

"What's your name, love?" he asked.

"Tiffany," she answered.

"Take off those clothes, Tiffany. You won't be needing them."

She did so. Her body was nice, tanned and curvy and just the way he liked his women. He undressed and ordered her to get on the bed, and to spread her legs. She did so. Kesslee grabbed a condom and rolled it on himself. He climbed on top of her, kissing her neck, slipping a hand between her legs. She moaned loudly, and to be honest, a bit obnoxiously, as he made her wetter and wetter. Seconds before her orgasm he withdrew her hand, ignoring her protests. He entered her hard, and Tiffany cried out. At first it was merely okay. Tiffany wasn't great, but she wasn't bad either. She'd get the job done.

And then he imagined someone else; Rebecca, writhing underneath him, moaning his name, pledging her undying and unwavering loyalty to him, only him. She would be his. He would make her scream his name over and over. Her hands in his hair, begging for more. And he would give it to her, just so long as she promised to be his. He groaned and grunted in Tiffany's ear, thrusting faster.

And as he came, it was Rebecca's name he screamed.

Sweaty, Kesslee collapsed next to Tiffany. He almost felt guilty for moaning another girl's name, but that guilt soon subsided. He sat up, removed the condom and threw it away, and got dressed, and Tiffany follow suit.

"That was good, darling," he said. "Would you like some water?"

Tiffany nodded. If she was insulted by his fuckup, she didn't look it. _A lot of women would kill for this opportunity, _he mused. _She must consider herself lucky I even moaned at all._

She followed him to his kitchen, where he got out two glasses, and filled both with water, one of which he handed to her.

After she had finished it, he had kindly allowed her to use the restroom before she was sent back to work.

The next few hours were tedious, just going over business as per usual, and Kesslee couldn't help but let his mind wander to his feisty little captive. Was she thinking about him? If she was, her thoughts were obviously nothing positive. She would be cursing him for being an asshole/prick/bastard, and those epithets, he had to admit, were fair enough.

When he was done with his business for the day, he went over to try talk some sense into Rebecca, as futile as the effort was going to be. It was night-time, so she was scantily clad and bore a few traces of powder from her recent shower. He gave her a quick once over when she wasn't looking, but otherwise kept his eyes on her face. He did pride himself on his self-control, after all. He saw the look of nervousness flicker on her face for a split second before she settled into her normal, smart-ass expression. Was she worried he'd rape her? He could if he wanted to; he was powerful enough, stronger, she couldn't stop him. Hell, the guards would be willing to hold her down, knowing that she'd fight him like the hellcat she was. But why did the idea repulse him? He tried to write it off as his wanting her to want him; then he'd really break her if she begged him to fuck her. It wasn't just that, though. There was something else he didn't want to think about.

He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, and interrogated her, and of course Rebecca gave him smartass answers. But she did look genuinely confused as to why he would want her at W&P. Shouldn't it be obvious?

She refused, and so he left. _Better luck next time, _he thought.


End file.
